“More for Gaby.” At times like this, Luther teetered toward the attitude of “fuck the law.” Some people, some monstrosities in the guise of human beings, didn’t deserve the benefit of societal rules. The savage who had cut up those people, who’d gnawed on that poor woman, fell into that category.
But he wanted Gaby removed from it, both physically and emotionally. The toll it took on her was not worth the end result, not to him.
If it came to it . . . He flexed his hands on the steering wheel, and admitted the truth. If it came down to it, he’d protect Gaby by killing the bastard himself.
Maybe that’s why he felt such an affinity to her. He understood Gaby and the demons that drove her to slaughter the most abject evil.
Ann’s silence wore on him, forcing Luther to explanations. “Understand, Ann. Gaby suffers for what she does.”
“I think I’ve seen that suffering.” She let out a staggered breath. “So why does she do it?”
“Because she suffers even more if she doesn’t.” Ann had seen small glimpses of Gaby’s torment, but she didn’t know the depths of that agony. And Luther couldn’t tell her without betraying Gaby.
They turned down the street and Luther saw the blackened ruins of a house. “No.”
Ann sat up, and groaned. “Maybe it’s not the house we’re looking for.”
No other home appeared in the area. “And maybe the bastard will turn himself in if we go back to the office and wait.” Luther brought the car to a jarring halt and sat there, staring at the carnage. Little remained of the house. Even the surrounding grounds were scorched and brittle. “Fuck!”
“I’ll say.” Furious, Ann yanked open her car door, got out, and started over to the uniformed cops who milled around their cruisers in confusion.
It didn’t make any sense, but Luther needed to talk to Gaby. He pulled out the cell phone and punched in her number.
She answered on the fourth ring, surprise in her voice. “Hello?”
“It’s Luther.”
“Oh, right. Bad timing, Luther, sorry.” And she hung up on him.
Stunned, Luther stared at the phone as fury boiled up. He dialed her right back.
This time she answered on the first ring. “What?”
He ground his teeth together. “Do not. Hang up. On me.”
She huffed. “Fine. Then talk quick.”
In his current state of mind, her insults pricked more than usual. “What are you doing that’s so damned important you can’t talk to me?” Through the windshield, he saw Ann give him an incredulous look, throw up her hands, and go to the house on her own.
“Actually,” Gaby said, “I’m pondering whether or not to beat the shit out of some asshole, if you want the truth.”
What else had he expected? Luther straightened in the car seat. “I vote no.”
“You’re not here and you don’t know the situation, so you don’t get a vote. Hang on.”
Feeling absurdly impotent, Luther listened through the phone as a scuffle ensued, followed by a grunt, a low curse, and then Gaby came back.
“Where was I?” She sounded calm, almost bored. “Oh yeah. I’ll try to walk away, Luther, but I can’t make any promises. He’s not making it easy.”
Luther’s blood pressure went sky-high. “He who?”
“Bogg’s brother, I think.” She said to someone else, “You are Bogg’s asshole brother, right?”
Luther heard more cursing, another crack or two, and Gaby said, “I really do need to go, Luther.”
He closed his eyes, but nothing brilliant came to him. “Is anyone shooting at you?”
“No.”
“How many are there?”
“Just two.”
The odds weren’t bad at all—unless he thought of the odds of the two guys surviving. It was a long shot, but he offered, “I’ll send a beat unit your way. They could be there in two minutes.”
“No, don’t do that.” Her voice lowered. “Seriously, Luther, that’d be a bad move.”
Frustration crawled over him, sent his temper through the roof, then settled in as resignation. He knew Gaby would be tough to deal with.
“All right.” What choice did he have? Luther knew that even if he had the time to race to her side, she’d have the conflict resolved one way or another long before then. “But promise me that you won’t dismember, incapacitate, or otherwise paralyze anyone if you can help it. Promise me, Gaby.”
“Party pooper.”
Jesus. “And if you get into any real trouble, call me so I can help. Promise me.”
“All right. I promise.”
“Thank you.” Marginally relieved, Luther started to disconnect the call, then thought to add, just to devil her in return, “Gaby? I really do care for you, honey. Remember that.”
She went silent, then let out an exaggerated sigh. “You fight dirty, cop.”
When the line went dead, Luther realized he was smiling. She’d turned him into a half-wit; nothing else explained the ability for humor during such an awful time.
He stuck the phone back in his pocket and got out of the car.
The rancid stench of burned wood, plastic, and fabric, along with something more noxious, still hung in the air. Staked police tape warned off curious spectators. Ann ensured that no one from their station compromised the crime scene—what was left of it.
She’d backed everyone away from the area, and given strict orders that nothing was to be touched, not even a singed gum wrapper on the ground.
She didn’t mention Luther’s delay in joining her, but instead launched into business. “The boys said it’s the only place on the street that qualifies, so it’s ours. The houses here are spaced out, only five on the private road, and the others are occupied with normal, family-type folk.” Ann looked up at him. “This one was vacant.”
“Or not,” Luther said. “I’m guessing our psycho moved in unnoticed.”
Ann didn’t argue that probability. “He’s got enough privacy here that no one would hear a woman screaming for help.”
Or in agony. “Probably kept her in the basement.” Luther paced along the perimeter. The concrete walls of the house’s subfloor remained. In the cement blocks of one wall, he could see what might have been the bolts to hold shackles in place. “You call forensics yet?”
“On their way. But it’s going to be a conflict.”
“Local fire department?”
“They said they put the blaze out last night, but not before most of the house was already gone. From what they could tell, the fire started in the basement, got into the walls, and up she went.”
Just as someone had planned. Luther kept a tenuous hold on his temper. “It’s an old place, so not as protected with modern materials as a newer home might’ve been.”
Ann put a hand on her hip. “And get this. The bomb guy and the arson investigators are already on it, because naturally the fire was deliberate. Gasoline, they think. And yeah, they saw the bolts in the wall, along with some other suspicious stuff.”
“Like?”
“Broken vials. The type that might’ve held drugs.” She shielded her eyes from the sun. “I’m supposed to get a call from the guy in charge. I’ll know more then.”
“It’s possible they found evidence buried under the ash, and didn’t even know it.”
“I like a man who thinks positive thoughts.”
Yeah, they both knew it was a crapshoot. “Let’s talk to the neighbors, see if they saw any activity. Maybe someone can identify a car or give us a description of someone they noticed hanging around.”
“Arson guys already did that, but, hey, my dance card is free.” She held out an arm for him to lead the way. “I’m in if you are.”
Chapter 14
Gaby slid her phone back into her pocket. Why did Luther have to call right then, and why did she feel obligated to honor his request? The cretin in front of her needed a good beating. Or worse. He was a clear threat to the kids, most especially to Dacia and Malinal.
Next to her target, another guy vibrated with leashed anger. “C’mon, Whit, let me teach her some respect.”
“Shut up, Mud.”